Some Other Metal
by willowcabins
Summary: Doccubus Pacific Rim AU: The world didn't stop ending when Bo left.
1. Chapter 1

First and foremost, this is my belated Christmas present to the AMAZING and AWESOME Roo – I hope you like this, even if it isn't 1920s era criminals. Bo and Lauren in a jaeger, at least, is fun? Secondly, I have chapter 1 already written and chapter 2 half written, so with some encouragement I hope the wait won't be too long..

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"Kaiju approaching the Bay of Fundy." It was a loud electronic voice, accompanied by a loud, repeated beep. Bo groaned and burrowed under the blanket, trying to avoid the red flashing light that tore her out of sleep.

"Come on, Bo! Kaiju attack!" Dyson hopped out of the bunk above her and bounced on the ground, giving her a hard shove before he approached the sink in their room and splashed freezing water on his face. His cheerful excitement was disgusting, Bo decided, rolling over. The beeping continued.

"_Fucking_ Kaiju's," Bo sighed angrily, giving up and flicking down her cover. She slowly straightened up, cracking her neck artfully. Their cabin was freezing. "Did you turn down the heat again?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at Dyson's retreating figure. He skipped into their bathroom.

"We have to conserve energy!" He called gleefully.

"I hate you," Bo mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and forcing herself to get up. Kaiju butt-kicking time.

There was something intensely warm and familiar about the skin-tight jaegar suits. Dyson followed Bo in to the cockpit, bouncing on his feet again. "Good morning, losers," came the bright cheerful voice through the speaker as two technicians hooked the pilots' suits to the monitor.

"Kenzi!" Bo laughed. "How was your evening going? Before we were interrupted, obviously."

"Wonderful before this alien motherfucker decided to invade my waters," Kenzi grumbled. "I was watching _Adventure Time_!"

"That show is still on air?" Dyson sounded incredulous.

"You bet your _ass_, Wolfy." Dyson chuckled at the affectionate nickname and Kenzi sighed dramatically. "And I was having a _great time_ watching it. No one likes it when these Kaijus interrupt our evenings."

"Oh I _feel_ you, Kenz," Dyson agreed.

"It's like, why don't you bother the Americans, right?" Kenzi asked. Bo snorted and shook her head, checking her jaeger suit connection carefully and firing up the neuro-systems.

"Blue Tempest is just better equipped to deal with those bastards than anyone else," Bo clarified, tightening the snap at the back of her jaeger suit. She watched Dyson do the same. Kenzi laughed.

"Good point Bo," Kenzi agreed. "They give their jaegers stripper names anyway."

"Weird stripper names," Dyson chimed in.

"Whatever." There was a serious of button presses and suddenly Kenzi's voice was back, calm and in command. "Initiating protocol for neural handshake." Dyson glanced over at Bo.

"Ready?" He asked, grinning.

"As always," She said, grimacing as the countdown ended and suddenly she was yanked into the drift. A pool of emotions, angst and loneliness - a child crying alone in a corner; clinging to a friend's hand as he died; the beautiful girlfriend lost and then found and then consumed by the Kaiju cancer. Dyson's memories, all mixed with Bo's own isolation in warm golden wheat fields and her own escape and fights and stealing. Their army days together pulled them together, alternating memories between them helping, fighting and kissing and then suddenly she was back. Back in her own body, but also in Dyson's.

It was a warm feeling in the drift. Dyson stretched his right arm; Bo's arm stretched with him. Bo stretched her left; Dyson's followed suit. Their synchronization was a comfort; their power suddenly transcended their bodies.

"All calibrated." Kenzi's voice had a different echo from the drift; Bo always thought her voice sounded huskier.

"Sexier," a stray thought from Dyson supplied. Bo laughed and let the thought fly off, ducking through foxholes and disappearing as their jaeger was dropped into the freezing Atlantic Ocean.

The fight was short; the Kaiju was small, but surprisingly agile and quick, constantly weaving in and out of their sight line. Bo tracked it on their radar, quickly tearing it out of the sky as it tried to take flight. Together, in a smooth action, they slammed its head into the Tempest's open palm. The movement twinged in Dyson's shoulder: a boyhood injury that echoed in Bo's arm.

The Kaiju fell back, swallowed by the waves. "Done, and _dusted_," Dyson told Kenzi triumphantly, though the words seemed to ghost across Bo's lips too.

"Good job, losers! Now get your asses back to anchorage!" They turned around, towards land, when suddenly another blot appeared on the radar.

"What's tha-" before Bo could finish her remark, a tearing pain bloomed across her shoulder. The dead Kaiju that wasn't dead – it had torn off Blue Tempest's right arm. Its sharp teeth were digging into the wiring of the shoulder joint and tearing each wire individually; Dyson writhed in a pain that blotted out every rational thought. Bo's eyes widened in terror as instinct interjected and she slammed the beast away with her left arm.

The electricity in the cockpit flickered as the beast howled and dug its claws into the metal work of the jaeger. "What's happening? Bo? Dyson?" A panic voice, more high pitched suddenly, crackled through the radio as Bo hit the beast again, and again, and again until it finally fell away, bright blue blood trickling through a cracked alien skull.

Dyson was motionless, hanging from the framework, limp. "Dyson? Dyson!" Bo begged, panic entering her voice as the heaviness of the jaeger suddenly settled on her, pushing itself into her brain.

"Dyson!" She called, panicy as the headache overtook her.

"Bo? Dyson?" The radio was stuttering, crackling. "_Co- back - anchorage! Come- to land!"_ A command. A command that Bo could understand, and follow.

Breathing felt harder, but Bo concentrated, and concentrated _hard_, slowly placing one giant robotic foot before the other, stumbling like a drunkard. A drunkard captured in 4 tons of Canada's best steel, desperately reaching, grabbing, _hoping_ for land before she collapsed.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 1; Trying to Stop the Winter

_5 years later_

It looked like snow. Bo frowned up at the sky – the snow would delay the construction crew for a week at least. A week these people didn't have. She bit her lip and watched her people work.

They had been trying to build semi-permanent homes for the refugees from the Gulf of St. Lawrence Kaiju attack. A month ago, a class 4 Kaiju had terrorized the coastal towns of Nova Scotia and Eastern Qubec. The small Quebecoise costal towns of Percé had been one of the many ruined towns, and its population, mainly farmers and rural craftsmen, were in need of help. The small huddle of tents and promise of more assistance from the overstretched and desperate Government would not last them the oncoming winter.

Bo approached the huddle of workers carefully, glancing over their work and nodding approvingly. At least they were making fast headway.

"It looks like snow." Michael tilted his head and looked upwards. Bo brushed off the remark.

"Better work faster then," she snapped. Michael sighed, dejected.

"Perhaps we can try and rally some more men from the village? Otherwise we won't finish on time."

"More?" Bo sighed and stared at the foundations of the house dejectedly. "Every able man and woman left is over there, slaving away to put up these houses. The people left are just those too young, too old and too sick."

"Perhaps some of the young ones can help?" Danielle chimed in. Bo gave her a look of surprise. She shrugged. "I mean I know my son could carry some of the logs and do other menial work."

"Mine too," chimed in another woman. Bo glanced behind her. The children and the old were responsible for cooking, providing the teams of workers with food at the end of the day. But they were right: a few children could be employed to fetch and carry.

"You're right," Bo decided, resigned. This war against aliens, and this race against nature didn't afford her the luxury of shieling the children. A helicopter buzzed above them. Bo followed its trajectory to their landing platform with confusion; a military craft, she noted. But they had already received their food delivery for the day. She narrowed her eyes and started jogging towards the makeshift landing platform. Perhaps they had finally arrived with re-enforcements.

She was standing at the edge of the landing platform when the chopper switched off, the loud whirring and the artificial wind of the turbines slowing. Two figures stepped out of the helicopter and approached Bo in the cold light of the afternoon. They were unmistakeable.

"Bo." His hair was longer, his stubble slightly darker, but he hadn't changed much. Except for the arm, useless, in a sling wrapped to his body. 5 years later, and that arm was still useless. She looked up, away from the arm, and stared into his eyes.

"Dyson," she replied, her voice betraying none of her surprise or fear. He shifted his coat, porbably trying to hide his arm. Silly, Bo thought; she could still see it, _feel _it being torn and damaged by that vicious lizard. She blinked away the thoughts and focused on him instead. "How did you find me?" She asked, quietly.

"With great difficulty." The calm, authoritative voice of Marshall Stacker Pentecost rang from behind Dyson. He stepped forward, military uniform unwrinkled from the helicopter ride and nodded at Bo. "Good Afternoon, Pilot Dennis." Bo saluted in response, military discipline, instilled in her at such a young age suddenly taking over.

"Marshall Pentecost," she greeted him.

"At ease," he commanded, eyes sparking with a subtle, but noticeable amusement that didn't touch his lips.

"Yes sir;" Bo relaxed.

"Any place we can go and talk?" Pentecost asked, glancing around the empty countryside. Bo nodded and swallowed. Someone else stepped out of the helicopter and stood behind Pentecost, but the Marshall gave no indication of noticing or caring, so Bo turned and lead the way towards the local elementary school, which was the largest building to have survived the attack.

"You have to come back." Dyson tried to sound decided, strong and confident, but Bo knew him so well that she could detect the note of desperation in his voice. She bit her lip and crossed her arms, stubborn.

"I can't." She tried to sound resolute equally resolute.

"Can't?" Dyson raised an eyebrow, glancing at Bo's right arm. "Your arm isn't shot, Bo."

"That's -" Bo tried to interrupt him, but Dyson continued.

"There is no injury, physical or mental, that _stops_ you from returning. So tell me again, why can you not come back?" His cocky arrogant was simultaneously incredibly annoying and incredibly comforting in its familiarity; Bo widened her stance and pushed forward her shoulder authratively.

"It's complicated," she snapped.

"More complicated than a phantom injury in your arm?" Dyson demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, have they figured out some magic medicine to make your arm work again?" Bo asked, glancing at his arm beligerantly.

"No," he admitted, though his voice held no trace of humility. That annoyed Bo most of all.

"Well then, how am I meant to come back?" Bo demanded, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "How am I meant to be a pilot without you, Dyson?"

"We'll find you a new co-Pilot," the Marshall interjected quietly and calmly. Bo's gaze shifted to the Marshall, mouth agape.

"A new co-pilot?" She demanded, dropping her arms to her side.

"Yes, a new co-pilot," he repeated. Bo slumped against a nearby desk, exhausted. She rubbed the heel of her palm against her eyes.

"I can't let anyone else in my head, Marshall," she muttered, defeated. "I sometimes wake up… Dyson and I were _connected_, you know. I _felt_…that." She gestured towards the arm weakly.

"I know." The Marshall's tone betrayed a deep understanding, but nevertheless, his gaze was steady and expectant. Bo held his gaze and then looked out of the window, at the settlement that was slowly, steadily coming along.

"Ask other pilots." She didn't look away from the window, but she heard Dyson's sigh and felt his disappointed, lingering gaze.

"We can't. You're the last one left."

"The last one?" Bo turned back to look at them, eyebrow raised.

"The last one who piloted a mark 2 jaeger, anyway," Dyson added quickly. Bo crossed her arms again. "Anyway, Bo, I'll be in charge of your selection for a co-pilot and I _promise_ you it won't be some hick fresh off the farm."

Bo rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath and glanced outside again; children young boys and girls were running between the groups of workers, supplying them with more logs. She dropped her arms. She wanted this war to end; the last five years had intimately acquainted her with the impacts on the common man, and that scared her. "Will you provide me with the best?" She asked, suspiciously.

"I've already chosen the _best _group of recruits the Canadian Forces could offer," Dyson assured her.

"Well, that is expected. I mean, I _am_ awesome on two legs." Dyson broke into a broad smile and bounded up, embracing Bo. His limp arm pressed into her, a reminder of what he had suffered. She clutched him back, smiling at Pentecost over Dyson's shoulder.

"Lucy here," the Marshall gestured at the figure and she stepped forward, "will take over your position in Percé in your absence. We leave for Hong Kong _immediately_."

The snow started falling, thick and white, as they walked towards the helicopter.

It was raining in Hong Kong. Dyson jumped out of the aircraft and offered Bo his good arm so that he could lead her as she observed the anchorage. They hurried to shelter and stepped through the large metallic door only slightly damp.

"Welcome to the Shatterdome," Dyson said cheerfully. Bo frowned, slinging her bag over her shoulder and following Dyson through the throng of people. It was a mess, but, she quickly realised, an organized one. The military discipline had not slacked under the Marshall's stern gaze, even when funding and public attention waned.

Dyson lead her inside, silent to allow her to absorb the large rusty halls. He typed the code in and then gave Bo a sideways, rueful glance. "Kenzi is going to be _so_ excited to see you," he told Bo, a self-satisfied smile pulling at his lips. Bo grinned.

"I missed her so much; the feeling is mutual."

"Bo!" Kenzi had been standing with the Wei Triplets, but when the double doors under the work clock opened, she spun around and shrieked Bo's name in childish excitement. She ran the twenty meters or so between them, regardless of her elegant and most definitely _not_ military standard boots and flung herself at Bo.

"Kenzi!" Bo replied, enveloping the girl in her arms and hugging her fiercely. Kenzi was lifted off the ground and Bo swung her around slightly, making her laugh. Bo put her down and grinned at her, Kenzi's excitement and joy infectious to the very core. She hadn't changed a bit – five years had no aged her youthful features on bit. Bo carefully pulled one of the strands of dark hair and chuckled. "You look good," she murmured.

"Of course I do," Kenzi smirked. She pulled at Bo's ponytail playfully.

"You, on the other hand, look like a wreck."

"Hey, I was stranded in Quebec!"

"I heard." Kenzi made a face indicating her disapproval of backwater Quebec. Bo chuckled and suddenly felt an urgent instinct to hug Kenzi again. Kenzi relaxed into the hug and clung on to Bo too.

"I missed you, loser," Kenzi murmured as the broke apart again. Bo grinned and grabbed Kenzi's hands.

"Same," Bo agreed. "I mean, I missed _you_," Bo corrected herself. Kenzi grin broadened.

"It's going to be so great to have you back," Kenzi promised. "Blue Tempest has missed you _so much_."

"You repaired Blue Tempest?"

"Of course! What other jaeger were we going to give you?" Bo laughed, incredulous.

"I don't know," she admitted, "I just never thought I would see her again."

"Well, she's here, strong and tall. I'll show her to you later." Bo smiled. She had missed the theatrics that followed Kenzi. There was a call from one of the upper decks. Kenzi looked up and grimaced.

"I have to run, Bo," she gave Bo a light hug. "Don't run off again, now, okay?" She ran up, taking two stairs a time, so she could join one of the mechanics on the fourth level.

"I'll show you to your room," Dyson finished.

"No don't leave yet you need to meet people!" Kenzi's shout from the fourth level echoed through the Shatterdome. Bo looked up, smirking.

"Me? Meet people?" She asked, incredulous.

"Well, person." Kenzi called back. The clatter of high heels against metal followed Kenzi as she hurried downstairs again, rushing to stand next to Bo and grabbing her hanks. "You have to meet our in-house nutjobs."

"Nut jobs? I already met all the jaeger pilots," Bo replied, gesturing around her. Kenzi snorted.

"Good one, but no. I meant the scientists, the people who are currently trying to find a solution for our problem." Kenzi lead Bo through a network of corridors, all of which disorientated her. She looked around, surprised as Kenzi put in yet another code to _another_ door. She was about to complain about how _confusing_ the Shatterdome was when a young woman stumbled through a door.

"Oh, hey Kenzi," she said absently, regaining her balance and giving Kenzi a weak smile. Kenzi grinned back.

"Yo, doc. This is my friend the jaeger pilot."

"Bo, the one who ran away." She squeezed Bo's hand. "Yes, I know you."

"We've met?" Bo said, surprised. She would have remembered someone whose eyes were this engaging. The doctor smiled in embarrassment and dropped her gaze back to the floor.

"No, no we haven't met, I just studied your file and selected your candidates."

"My potential co-pilots?"

"Exactly. I look forward to seeing you work tomorrow actually. Your training videos and mission statements show you to be very interesting." Bo chuckled. The doctor blushed slightly and let her blonde hair swing forward. "Anyway, I have to run now though; Trick wanted me to get him some details on the weight of the Blue Tempest so he can facture it into his calculations," she finished hurriedly and ducked out before Bo could compute the end of her sentence. When she had, she turned to Kenzi in surprise.

"Trick is here?!" Bo's eyes widened. Her grandfather had done a lot of work for the jaeger program, but when she had disappeared she had severed all contact with him too. It was great news to hear he was here. Kenzi grinned.

"I knew you'd be excited about that. See you, Lauren!" She called after her retreating figure. Bo watched her go with interest.

"Who is she?" She asked, dropping her voice down to a whisper. Kenzi grinned.

"That's just the doctor. She's crazy good. Also crazy?"

"Aren't we all, Kenzi?" Bo half smiled. Kenzi chuckled.

"Good point."


End file.
